Fiction

I’m not sure which is worse, having my hair torn out everyday and markers drawing ‘makeup’ on my face, having a dog chew on my arm and a toddler chew on my leg.

This place held nightmares. Its beauty was extraordinary. Something straight out of a movie. The water was jet black, so that when the sun was setting you could see its orange hues reflecting on the water.

The old woman guides him past the wooden blue-coated porch. Past the tall grass and the gravel path driven beneath it.

I wrote this for a Lord of the Flies creative project for school for which a prompt was to write about what would happen if it was girls on the island instead of boys.

Chapter 1: A Reaper Guiding a Dead Soul

-Zeph-

Blood had never tasted so…sweet.

A boy sat under a hazy sun, paper airplane in hand.  Words stretched along the creases, telling of a world he wished he knew: one of a golden sun you couldn’t meet the gaze of, fields full of green grass and wildflowers, and sparkli

Only those looking were stunned silent.

The aliens saw Earth and left.

Somewhere in the woods generations in the past, there was a person who wanted to build a life for themselves. So they bravely ventured into a land of great cedar and oak, which they thought could bear fruit all year long.

After they arrived at the train station in the middle of nowhere, getting off of the bus was an awful drag. It was sluggish, slow, and the fleeting flocks of people turned into deep, hurling crowds.

Sam and Willa lay on their backs in the overgrown grass of his yard, her describing the shape of the clouds for him to paint as a picture in his head.